


Looking Glass

by Cselkcess (unscriptedemily)



Series: Glassverse [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Glassverse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Part Two, Slash, Yaoi, arty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unscriptedemily/pseuds/Cselkcess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aureate eyes meet the black and they crumble, coffee mugs cast aside as they fall into each other and cling tight, tight, tight, too scared to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Teen+ for swearing (put the boys in a room together and you can be certain there will be at least one f-bomb so you really can't blame me. Blame them instead). 
> 
> This is the sequel to Hourglass, the first fic in my au Glassverse, so I'd recommend reading that one *first*?  
> No spoilers today, folks^!^  
> Aaaas usual, UnBeta'd, because my lovely beta is on holiday :((( so pls no flames but concrit is appreciated c:  
> I didn't have a specific song prompt for this one, but I was listening to Dark Days by Punch Brothers and Bones by Sarah Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson while writing so....
> 
> Discalimer: Nope, not mine. No matter how much I wish it was.

Two still forms, barely distinguishable from each other; they lie entwined together like knots, heart to heart, chest to chest, breath to breath. One is silver and blue, sweeping lines and marble features. The other is gold and red, angel blood and fire so bright you can’t look away, smooth and ragged and fierce.

The shadows dapple across their skin like trailing fingers. They each own more than their fair share of scars and perhaps that is the reason they cling so tightly to each other, as though they would die if they were to let go even for a second.

Eyes flicker open, dark lashes sweeping high cheekbones and though one’s head is nestled lower, against the steady heartbeat of the other, they are symmetrical all the same. Despite physical differences, each mirrors the other as they tighten their hold and bury their faces in each other’s skin.

The sheets, crisp white and pale grey, rustle and shift as the taller of the two levers himself upright, leaning against the pillows as bitter half-light leaches the colour out of the world

 

***

 

“-I thought you were dead,”

“-Ed, god, I-,”

“Roy, I thought you were _dead_ I was ready to _kill myself_ -,”  
“-I love you I love you, Oh Ed you are- _everything_ , how could I ever leave you-?”

“-if you didn't wake up I was gonna die Roy I love you I love you I-“

“I love you.”

 

***

 

Coffee. Steam spirals between them. They marvel silently at the ordinary-ness of the task- filling the kettle, lighting the stove with a snap and a click, fetching mugs, heaping sugar and stirring-

Almost as if they hadn’t just cheated death.

 The aureate eyes meet the black and for once Roy can’t hide anything from Ed; for once Ed can’t hold back the pain and they crumble, inwards, downwards, outwards, coffee mugs cast aside as they fall into each other and cling tight, tight, tight, too scared to let go.

 

***

 

Choked into the darkness: “Roy? Are you- awake?”

Arms tighten around him. “Yes.”

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me like that ever again, you bastard.”

“Never. God, never, Ed, the only thing that brought me back was your voice-“

“I’m going to kill them , you know.” Delivered calm and deadly. Metal fist at his back, clenching.

“…Ed.”

“I’m going to tear them apart,” golden eyes burn fiercer than the sun as he reaches up and smoothes Roy hair away from the bandage wound round his head, “for trying to take you away from me.”

Roy swallows. His eyes are full of shadows and stars as he gazes down at the wolf in his arms and nods.

 

***

 

“Four months?”

“-Five, actually.”

“….I’m sorry.”

A hard, passionate kiss that leaves him aching. “Don’t be.”

 

 ***

 

Careful hands peel at the bandage. Rusty flakes scatter down.  
“Head wounds bleed a lot, don’t worry,” murmurs Ed.

“I suppose you’d know, wouldn’t you,” Roy manages a smirk.

“… _such_ a bastard-!”

 

 ***

 

“You- were in a coma for _five_ months. They were literally- _reaching_ for the switch and-“

Gentle fingers card through his hair, smudge the tears away. “Shhh. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

Choked breathing. Then, “Bastard. Don’t be fucking sorry. You didn't ask to get captured.”

“Neither of us did. It wasn't our fault.”

Roy’s eyes widen. “Ed. It  _wasn't your fault_. How could you-?”

There is a long, long pause. When he finally speaks, Ed’s voice is hoarse and low. “Three months in that place. Then when we finally- _finally_ \- got out you- you were weak and sick and bleeding everywhere and I walked and walked and walked for fucking _ever_ an’-

“An’ we got to the hospital and they looked at me with- _pity_ in their eyes and I was this-  _this_ \- close to killing someone, Roy, if it got you treatment quicker, an’ then…an’ then. _Five. Fucking. Months._ I was out of my fucking _mind_ , I couldn't eat, I could barely swallow water for fuck’s sake and every time I tried to close my eyes all I could see was- you. And blood, so much blood and. Roy. _Five. Months_. You nearly fucking _died_. Do you know what that means? It means you were _this_ close to _leaving_ me, _this_ close to just- not. Existing. And.  
“I could have stopped it.”

“Exactly how the hell,” quietly, “do you think you could have stopped it?”

Ed’s eyes, dull gold in the dim bedroom. “I…I dunno, I could've-,”

“ _You don’t know_. And you know why that is? Because you couldn't have stopped it. Ed. It was _me_ , for fuck’s sake, it was me and the fucking Fuhrer and the _army_ , fucking _hell_ Ed _I_ gave the orders, _I_ told the men to lead us straight into the fucking ambush- if you feel guilty then how the fuck do you think I feel?”

The barest whisper of a stoppered throat: “Roy…” The words behind the words: it wasn't you it  _wasn't_ I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you

Arms around each other, then, the only way they can sleep now. “We have to keep moving forwards.” The black head dips to brush a kiss to the tanned forehead. “Isn't that what you always say? Ed. We have to keep moving forwards.”

 

***

 

 As they fall asleep, they reflect each other’s guilt the only way they can: by holding on tighter, drowning the other’s pain in their arms.


End file.
